Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Babies have the uncanny ability to turn the simplest events into a memory. Kyle and I have a terrible, yet glorious, habit of getting ice cream at least three nights a week. Last night, we decided to check out a new frozen yogurt shop that opened up near our house. Claire had gotten extra dirty, compliments of the sandbox at the Tot Lot, so it was one of the rare occasions in which she got to wear her footie pajamas in public and looking back, the kid knew she looked cute.
Since Claire isn't "on sugar" yet, we grabbed an extra dish for her and filled it with fruit pieces from the topping bar. Something about having her own dish that looked like ours, and getting to work on her spoon skills with the yogurt shop's special orange spoons, made her very excited, not to mention, ridiculously proud. She ended up sitting in her little high chair, holding her dish against her with one arm and spooning out fruit pieces with the other. Kyle tried to get her to put her beloved dish on the table "like daddy" but she held it against her little bejammied (a la bespectacled, bedazzled) body and twisted around to serve him a block that would make any linebacker proud (I'm 80% sure the linebackers block). Then, deciding that mere cuteness was not enough, she upped the ante and further proved Kyle's paternity (because the red hair and quizzical brow aren't proof enough) by using her gift of extreme friendliness on the other patrons. "Hi" to the little girl across the room, "hi" to the awkward teenage boy in line, "hi" to the woman standing by the door, "hi" to her I said, it was a special spoon. The poor deprived girl didn't even get any frozen yogurt but she ended up having more fun than anyone else there (including the woman who poured half of the bottle of caramel sauce on her yogurt, and that says a lot). Claire decided to bring her dish home with her and squeezed it tight as she drifted off to sleep in her car seat (which ended up being a total fake out). We got home and Kyle, who is known for being both sensitive and sentimental (not!) said, and I'm paraphrasing, "That was really fun. Isn't it funny how we end up just watching Claire no matter what we're doing? By the way, the dinner you cooked was both delicious and sophisticated and your new haircut really accentuates your high cheek bones." Like I said, it was a paraphrase.
Regular Tuesday night, etched into my brain.

I wish that I would've brought my camera but believe it or not, I draw the line somewhere. Since a post isn't a post without a picture, here are a few of Claire taking a canoe ride with Kyle and Grampy. 

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Grammy's Girl

Claire has always been a bit of a Grammy's girl. Truth be told, she is a lot of different people's "girl" at any given time. The kid has a knack letting people know they're special (extra tight hugs are usually involved). But Grammy is more than just special to Claire and this weekend was proof of this. We ended up spending three nights at my parent's house (two planned, one strategic) and Grammy's arms were little sore by the end of the weekend. Claire decided that happiness could only be found in Grammy's arms and since she recently learned the power of the word please (pees), she followed her around with her arms held up saying "pees, pees, pees". They usually come in threes. Grammy had no choice.

I was reading an article about backlit photos and low and behold, I looked up and saw these two reading books in the window. Grammy isn't a huge fan of having her picture taken so I assured her she wasn't in the shot. I might have to try this again.

Then things got much sillier. This might play a role in why Grammy is extra special.

Monday, May 28, 2012

A Good Good Boy

Claire has always loved both of "her" dogs but for the most part, Piper, our Westie, has been the object of the majority of her "affection".  The odd thing about this, is that of the two dogs, Piper is much less tolerant of Claire's pokes, prods, and occasion dental examinations, than our Norwich terrier, Scout. Scout's patience seems to be paying off (or not, depending on how you look at it).